I Should Go
by Wildfire2243
Summary: Bella sat on bruised and scraped knees and through a haze of tears and rain, watched as her world walked away without a single glance back.
1. Prologue

"What?"

Bella looked at the boy, no, the man, in front her in disbelief. His green eyes swept across the ground before looking up at the storm clouds gathering overhead. He sighed and looked down at his shoes as he repeated those seven heart-stopping words.

"I think we should take a break."

The disbelief clouding her mind turned to agony and unwanted tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked them back furiously. _'No!'_ she thought. _'I will not do this. I will not cry. Not here, not now.' _ She opened and closed her mouth several times. It crossed her mind fleetingly that she must have looked like a fish, but dismissed it as unimportant. Just a random thought to fill the blankness that had encompassed her mind. She shook her head slightly to get a hold of herself before finally verbalizing the only thing she really needed to say.

"Why?"

He shifted almost unnoticably to his left and began playing with the ends on the leather band around his wrist. His darted his eyes back and forth across the ground. She had learned over the years that these were sure signs that he was nervous; uncomfortable. Broad shoulders lifted slightly and slumped back down before a deep voice answered.

"I just . . . It feels like being with you is more of an obligation instead of a choice. I mean, we've been together so long that I think . . . I feel like we are only still together because we don't know how NOT to be, you know? And I, I just, I don't know what to do anymore. . . "

His voice trailed off and he finally raised his head to meet her eyes. Sad muddled green clashed with tortured brown and the floodgates finally burst on the tears Bella desperately tried to hold back. He spoke again.

"Please don't do this."

Bella shook her head furiously and took a step back. One hand flew up to her mouth, to hold in the bile, the sobs, or both, she wasn't quite sure. Her other hand snaked around her waist and shaking fingers clawed desperately at her side. She couldn't even think. Breathing became labored and standing was almost impossible. His words echoed around her.

'_I think we should take a break.'_

'_. . . more of an obligation. . .'_

'_. . . don't know what to do anymore.'_

She briefly wondered if her soul actually made an audible sound as it crumbled. Would he hear it? Would it change anything? A rumble of thunder made her jump. It seemed even the heavens were protesting this meeting; this heartbreak; this destruction.

Another sound permeated the thick fog around her brain.

"I . . . I have to go."

And he left. As he walked away, only one thought surfaced.

_I gave him that hoodie for Christmas._

And with that her knees and the clouds gave way to her pain. Bella sat on bruised scraped knees and watched through a haze of rain and tears as her world walked away.

Without a single glance back.


	2. I'm Fine

Chapter 1:

'_**How r u?' –E.C.**_

I stared at my phone, cursing myself once again for failing to change my number in the past 4 years. Like I had done 15 times before, I snapped my phone shut and stored it in the drawer in front of me, knowing good and well that I would just pull it out again 5 minutes later. I sighed deeply and ran my fingers through my hair, wincing when I hit a particularly nasty snag. The butterflies in my stomach hadn't abated in the hour since receiving his text; if anything, they had grown into large moths. _Quit this, _I muttered to myself. _ It's just a text. Just a message. Just a message from a guy. Just a message from a guy who broke your heart 4 years ago then disappeared off the face of the earth._ I groaned in frustration and laid my head down on the desk in front of me. I turned slightly to look at the door after hearing a light knock. A sandy-blonde haired man poked his head in and addressed me.

"Hey Bella. You got those reports put in yet?" I grimaced slightly at his grammar before answering.

"Just finishing up the narrative and finalizing it. 'Bout ready for some lunch?"

Jasper smiled and gave me a big thumbs up before turning around and leaving.

"I'M HUNGRY!"

I shook my head at his childish antics and went back to work in the hopes that we would be able to eat said lunch in the next few minutes. Unfortunately for Jasper, it seemed we would not be eating today. Just as the printer spat out my finished report, a shrill tone pierced the building.

"_Station 35, need you to respond Highway 1 North near mile marker 422 reference 10-50. 18-wheeler vs. minivan. 5 P.I. Confirmed entrapment._

I hopped out of my chair, unclipped the radio from my side and answered my dispatch.

"Station 35 direct. Highway 1, mile marker 422."

"10-4 35, copy direct. Station 37 fire on-scene with crash truck," replied the faceless voice.

I spoke into the radio once more, "10-4 Central." I clipped my radio back on my hip and shouted for my partner. "Jasper! Let's move!"

Jasper met me in the bays with a grin. "I just LOVE hearing you on the radio. You're like 'Porn Star Medic'." His voice took on an exaggerated and breathy tone. "Station 35 direct. Mmm, oh! Mile marker, mmmmm, 422!" I punched him lightly in the arm and for the first time in over an hour, let a true smile worm its way onto my face.

"I learned it from your wife."

Jasper's eyes glazed over at the mention of Alice. "And what a good teacher she is," he murmured. I slapped him gently on the back of the head and told him jokingly to snap out of it. He opened the bay door and we climbed in the truck. '_Lights, siren, air horn, partner. Ok, let's ride_. Jasper picked up the mic next to me and radioed in.

"Central, this is Station 35, Medic 4 en-route."

The chaos we encountered on Hwy 1 was in no way unexpected but overwhelming nonetheless. The scene that greeted us was gruesome. By the looks of it, an 18-wheeler had been coming from the off-ramp and lost control of his load. It had tipped on its side, slid through the median, and slammed into a minivan consisting of a mother, father, and 2 children. A firefighter met us at the ambulance before we even had a chance to get out. He pulled me aside and began to give me a brief update on the situation at hand.

"The driver of the transfer truck says he's alright. He's a little banged up but already signed a refusal for transport to the hospital. The driver of the minivan and the child sitting behind him are both out of the car and off-scene. Station 36 is already en-route with them to Peace Memorial. The passenger and child sitting behind her are being cut-out now. The mother is conscious and alert. We can't see the child, nor is he talking. The mother is freaking out because he won't talk to her either."

"Thanks. Radio central and tell them to send station 36 back once they've signed care of their two patients over to the hospital. We're going to let them take the mother and we'll focus on the child."

He nodded and stepped away to follow my command. By this time, Jasper had made it to the crumpled minivan in order to provide a more in-depth assessment on the two still trapped in there. I stood back and let Jasper do his thing. Jasper and I had been partners on Medic 4 of Station 35 for the past year; ever since I became a paramedic. I shook myself to snap out of my little mini-flashback. Now was neither the time or place think of anything other than what was going on. Jasper walked back over to me.

"How's the child?" I asked.

"I just got done speaking with the mother. We have a 6 year old male that's been unresponsive since impact. The truck hit their side. The guys will have him out by the time we get a backboard over there."

"Let's get to it. You get the board; I'll grab a collar and the straps."

We got our equipment and carefully made our way back to the minivan. Jasper took the board to the door nearest the boy and where the firefighters and just finished cutting the debris pinning the boy to his seat. I climbed in the backseat through the opposite door and tried to make contact with my patient. I took hold of his hand in mine and spoke to him.

"Sweetheart? Can you hear me? I'm going to need you to open your eyes for me ok?" Upon receiving no answer, or any sign that he even heard me, I turned my attention to his mother in the front seat.

"Are you ok?" She nodded. "I need you to tell me what his name is ok?"

"Mason," she croaked out. "Please! You have to help him!"

"I'm doing the best I can right now ma'am. You need to stay calm. We have another ambulance coming back to take you to the hospital but right now we're going to take care of Mason ok?" I tried to speak calmly and prayed that my face stayed neutral when she said her son's name. _Mason_. _Edward. Edward Anthony Masen Cullen. Get it together Bella! You have a kid to help, so snap out of it!_ I tried one more time to get rouse the boy into talking, or at least showing me some sign of life other than his pulse beating under my fingers.

"Mason? Sweetie? You need to open your eyes, sweetheart. You need to look at me."

I heard a small groan and sent up a silent prayer of thanks.

"Honey, I'm going to hold your head for you ok? We're going to put you on a hard board and take you to see your daddy at the hospital." Silence. I put one hand on each side of his head to keep his head from moving and his neck straight. If he had a spinal injury, the last thing we wanted was for his head or body to move wrong and make it worse.

"Jasper, I need a collar and we need to get him on the truck now!"

Jasper passed me a C-Collar through the window. I fit Mason's chin in the holder and carefully wrapped the collar around the back of his neck and attached it back together in the front. I continued to hold his head as a precaution as Jasper and the firefighters positioned the backboard next to him. They twisted his body, making sure to cause as little movement to the neck and spine as possible, and slid him onto the board. We immediately began to apply the Spider Straps that would hold his body completely still. Finally, I put head blocks next to each of his ears and connected them with a strap across his forehead and a strap across his chin.

Once he was in full spinal protocol and out of the car, I got my first good look at Mason's injuries. The right side of his head bled profusely from a large laceration along his hairline; His right shoulder joint looked to be 2 or 3 inches lower that the one on the left and I suspected a dislocated shoulder. His lower right leg looked crushed and the rest were just minor lacerations, bruising, and abrasions. Black eye, broken nose, busted lip.

I decided not to worry with the leg or shoulder right now. His being in spinal protocol meant he was in a full body splint. To take him off and splint each limb separately, only to put him back on the board could be detrimental to a spinal injury. The straps secured him to the board and prevented movement. We loaded him on the stretcher and swiftly secured him in the truck. Now we were on MY ground.

I got to work. I pulled out our IV kit and tied the tourniquet snugly around Mason's upper arm. A wry smile crossed my face when I noticed his AC pop right up for me. I pulled out at 18 gauge needle and slid it into the upraised vein. As expected, a flash of blood appeared in the needle catheter letting me know I made it in the vein. By this time, Jasper had a bag of fluids ready with the tubing attached.

I loosened the tourniquet and retracted the needle from the vein, leaving the catheter inside. Jasper hooked the tubing from the fluid bag to the IV and taped it down. I looked at Mason and saw that Jasper had put him oxygen before spiking my fluid bag.

"What are his respirations?" I asked. We had to find out how often he was breathing.

"12 upon extrication from the car."

"Get respirations and a hear rate, I'll take a blood pressure." 30 seconds passed in silence. Jasper spoke first.

"Respirations are 8. Heart rate is 194 and irregular." I cursed under my breath. So that's why I was unable to get a BP.

"Put him on the monitor and get a rhythm. I'm going to get everything ready to intubate."

Jasper nodded and removed the cables, electrodes, and leads to hook the boy up to our heart monitor. Meanwhile, I pulled out our intubation kit and began to get everything ready. I used our pediatric Braslow tape to determine the size tube to use. I inserted the stylet into the corresponding tube and picked up the ET blade. I opened Mason's mouth and inserted the ET blade to open his throat and give me a clear view of his vocal cords. I grabbed the tube and fed it through before removing the blade from his mouth and stylet from the tube.

A few breaths from the BVM and a quick listen to his lungs and stomach let me know the tube had correct placement; I secured the ET tube and turned my attention to Jasper. By this time he had applied the electrodes to Mason's small body and was printing out a rhythm. I opened the door and yelled for a firefighter to hop in the ambulance and get us to the hospital. We had already spent entirely too much time on-scene. I looked at Jasper anxiously.

The blonde haired man shook his head and answered my unspoken question.

"Uncontrolled A-Fib." A jolt told us that we were finally on the way to the hospital, and not a minute too soon.

"Get the D-Fib pads and apply them"

Jasper looked at me incredulously. "You're going to do and in-field cardio-version?"

"What do you suppose I do? It's either that or we'll be working a trauma code, which do you prefer?" I knew I sounded like a bitch but now was not the time to question my skills as a paramedic. He nodded and applied the pads as I asked. I told him the joules to charge and gave Mason a shock in the hopes that his heart would reset itself and slow down.

Atrial Fibrillation told me that his heart was beating entirely too fast to supply adequate blood and oxygen to the organs. If left unchecked, he could very well go in to cardiac arrest. The boy's body twitched under the electricity. I sent up a silent prayer that the little one was unconscious and couldn't feel what we were doing to him. Thankfully, one shock was all it took. Mason's heart rate slowed to 140. Still faster than normal but at least his body was getting the oxygenated blood it needed.

I continued giving breaths through the tube using the BVM and let Jasper call in to the hospital and let them know what we were coming in with. Upon arrival at the hospital, a team of nurses met us at the door and helped us transfer Mason from our stretcher to the hospital bed in the trauma room.

Our job now done, Jasper and I walked the stretcher back outside to the ambulance. The adrenaline began wearing off and I thought about what exactly just happened. I then proceeded to lean over in the bushes next to the ambulance and throw up everything in my stomach.

A cool cloth on the back of my neck alerted me to my partner's presence. I met his tear-filled eyes and threw myself into his arms, thankful that no one who was on-scene at the accident could see me.

"It's ok," he whispered softly. "You did everything perfect. We got him here alive. Everything will be alright." I nodded and wiped my eyes. Embarrassed to have broken down like a rookie, I turned away from the compassionate man in front of me and started cleaning up the back of our truck. Jasper didn't bring up my slight meltdown and when we got back to the station, I walked purposefully to my office and closed the door.

I sat with my head in my hands for what seemed like hours. Of its own accord, my right hand snaked its way to the desk drawer in front of me and snatched out my phone.

'_**im fine' –B.S.**_

**AN: And here's the first chapter. I know there are probably quite a few medical terms that most people won't understand and anytime there's a chapter like this, I'll do my best to explain them; either in the chapter or in an Author's Note. If I fail to explain something that you're confused about please let me know.**

***10-50 : This is reference to a traffic accident**

***P.I. : Patient's (or People) Injured**

***Entrapment : There is a person or persons unable to get out of the vehicle do to being pinned in by debris or because a door or window won't open.**

***Spinal Protocol : Put in place in the event that a patient complains of back or neck pain. In order to keep from possibly injuring the spine even more, it fully immobilizes the patient. A C-Collar is placed around the neck to keep it from bending. The patient is laid down on a straight board (back board) and strapped down with a series of Velcro straps called "spider straps". Foam "head blocks" are then placed on either side of the head and 2 thick pieces of tape (one across the forehead and one under the chin) are place over the patient's head to keep them from turning their neck.**

***Intubation: The process of inserting a plastic tube into a patient's throat to help them breath**

***ET Blade : NOT AN ACTUAL BLADE USED TO CUT! Merely what we call the instrument to help lift up on the throat to reveal the vocal chords. The ET tube must pass through the vocal chords in order to get oxygen to the lungs**

***BVM : Bag Valve Mask. Attaches to the ET (intubation) tube and squeezed in order to give oxygen to a patient.**

***D-Fib Pads : Defibrillation Pads . . . used to deliver a shock to the patient**


	3. You Must Be New

Chapter 2

_**6 years ago**_

She looked in the mirror and stuck her tongue out at her reflection. An average girl stared back at her with her tongue hanging stupidly out the side of her mouth. The site made Bella grin wryly. She turned to her bed and stared at the brand new black back-pack sitting demurely on her blue comforter.

"Don't look at me like that," she told it. "You sit there all innocent; like you're not part of the reason my life is ruined." She sighed with a sense of drama that only a teenager can and flopped on her bed next to the life-ruining satchel. She turned her head towards the mirror, grumbled lightly, grabbed her book bag, and half walked, half tumbled, down the stairs.

Bella met her mother, Renee, in the kitchen. Hearing her daughter's approach, Renee wiped her soapy hands on a dish towel next to her and reached towards Bella.

"I know this is hard on you, baby girl, and I'm so sorry things had to happen this way. But don't worry. Everything will work out."

Bella let the older woman envelope her in a tight embrace and stayed silent as she tried to encourage her. Bella knew their move to North Carolina wasn't entirely Renee's fault. The blame in that lay with Charlie and his little girlfriend Sue. Everyone knew that Charles Swan had a problem with fidelity, his wife and daughter included. It was easy to pretend, however, that things were normal; that Charlie truly was on a business trip and not spending the weekend with his latest fling. What the rest of the town didn't know was that it wasn't a "fling" or a "one night stand" or a "flavor of the week" that entranced Charlie; it was an on-going affair with one woman, Sue Clearwater, the widow of his dead best friend. Charlie had promised Harry on his deathbed that he would look out for Sue. He obviously took that promise very seriously and, in true Charlie Swan fashion, went above and beyond his call of duty. Surprisingly though, the breaking point came not from Renee, or even Sue, but from Charlie himself. Bella was in her room doing homework and her mother in the kitchen cooking supper when Bella heard the commotion. Charlie sat in the living room watching a baseball game when, according to Renee, he lost it,

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he shouted. Stunned, Renee simply stood there while her husband of 17 years berated and belittled her.

"Have you no sense of dignity? I haven't been faithful to you or our marriage in _years_! Do you really have no sense of self-respect? I don't even try to hide it anymore. You wipe glitter off my jacket and wash lipstick from my shirts. You're pathetic." Charlie paused and grabbed Renee by her upper arms. "Where's the woman I married, Renee?" he whispered fiercely. "Where's that fire? That, that, that _passion_ that you used to project? You would have never let me get away with this 17 years ago! You would have beaten some sense into me. You would have _fought_ for me! Why won't you fight for me?" he ended quietly. Renee was struck speechless and didn't move. Charlie looked desperately into her eyes. Unable to find what he was searching for, he nodded sadly and let her go.

"I want you to leave, Renee. The house is completely in my name and I've told Sue that she can move in. She's been pushing me to end things with you for the last couple of months." Renee flinched at the intentional barb. "I'll agree to alimony and child support. Bella will be done with her sophomore year of high school in two weeks. That will give you two enough time to find somewhere to stay and pack your things." The last statement seemed to snap her out of her stupor.

"You're going to let your daughter go without a second thought?" she asked incredulously.

"I don't even know Isabella," he stated simply, shrugging his shoulders with nonchalance. With that, he turned and went back to watching his baseball game.

Two weeks later, Renee and Bella were on a plane bound for North Carolina. They spent most of the summer with Renee's parents in a little town about 30 miles form the coast. The finally found their own home, only a few short miles from Bella's grandparents, and moved in about two weeks before the start of her junior year.

Bella pulled herself out of both her reverie and Renee's hug, and straightened her clothes.

"It's okay, mom. I understand." And she really did. She and Charlie had never had a relationship beyond his acknowledgement of fatherhood. She wasn't surprised at the admission that he didn't want her. Hurt? Definitely. No child wants to hear that her parents don't want her, no matter the relationship or lack thereof. Deciding she'd had enough reminiscing, she stretched her neck to give the older woman a kiss on the cheek and bid her goodbye.

She climbed (quite literally) into the ancient Ford given to her as an early birthday present by her Papa and turned the key to give the beast life. It roared in protest as she put it in gear and eased out the driveway and then continued its ear-rattling noise every time she slowly accelerated. Bella merely rolled her eyes and continued the trek to the local high school. She parked the monster between an older model Buick and a Chevy that looked as ragged out as her Ford. She grinned at the normalcy of the vehicles.

_I guess some thing__s don't change. Whether you're in Washington or North Carolina, teenagers are broke everywhere._

The sun burned hot on her neck, even at so young an hour, as she walked into the school. August in the Carolinas was certainly nothing to joke about. She was suddenly very grateful for the hair band she'd slipped on her wrist this morning. She threw up hair up into a quick, messy ponytail and sighed in relief at the feeling of a slight breeze on the back of her sweaty neck. She arrived at her homeroom with relative ease. The schedule the school mailed to her mother and her had contained the classroom numbers in addition to the course title and teachers' names. She found that homeroom, once everyone had gotten into the swing of things, wouldn't be a normal part of the day. Bella was immensely thankful that she had gotten registered in time to start school with the rest of the students. At least this way she was saved from embarrassing introductions in front of the class. The most she would do would be an "icebreaker", in which case, the rest of the class would have to participate as well. A bored looking middle-aged woman handed out locker assignments, another copy of the schedules, and plopped back into her chair. She pulled out a worn novel (what looked like a trashy romance novel to Bella, if the buff man with the ripped shirt on the cover were any indication), and told the class they could talk amongst themselves but please keep it down to a "dull roar". A blonde sitting next to Bella turned to her and immediately began talking.

"Gah, that old bat needs to retire! It's not like she gives a flyin' flip about anything but Fernando's 'throbbing member'", here she made air quotations and rolled her eyes, "or whatever else is in that trash she reads."

Bella felt her cheeks burn at the girl's blasé tone, both in speaking of sex and in the disregard she obviously had for the woman. She chose to ignore the "throbbing member" comment and instead focused on the age of the "old bat".

"She doesn't look that old to me. 50 maybe?"

"She's 57 and totally ancient!" The blonde lowered her voice to a whisper. "She still owns cassette tapes! Can you believe it?"

Having had enough gossip about a woman who could very well end up teaching one of her classes, Bella decided to stop the girl's chatter and introduce herself.

"Well, I'm Bella. Bella Swan." She stuck her hand out in invitation.

"Oh, wow! How stupid of me! I'm Jessica Stanley but everyone just calls me Jess. You must be new." Jess took Bella's very pale hand into her very tan one and gave it an enthusiastic shake.

"Uhh, yeah," Bella replied shyly. She ducked her head down and nervously tucked a stray lock of mahogany hair behind her ear. "Is it that obvious? My mom and I just moved here from Seattle in June."

"So that's why you're so pale," Jess stated bluntly. She smiled widely, showing off perfectly straight, perfectly white, teeth. "And nah, it ain't that obvious. It's just that most of us 'round here grew up together and I've never seen you before. Educated guess, I reckon you could say." The more Jess talked, the more Bella heard her southern accent coming forth. It was actually quite charming. She was saved from a response by a series of tones that sounded vaguely like the chimes of a grandfather clock. She looked to Jess in question. Jess rolled her blue eyes and sighed.

"That's our bell; because apparently, an actual bell would make entirely too much sense." Bella giggled and nodded in understanding. She liked Jessica. Sure she seemed a little dim at times, but overall entertaining. And very friendly. "So, what locker number do you have?" Bella looked at the slip of paper given to her earlier and answered Jess.

"214."

Jessica threw her arm around Bella's shoulders and led her out the door, talking the entire time. "You got lucky. Even numbered lockers are on top. Odd numbers on bottom. I'm 256 so at least our lockers are on the same hall." She kept jabbering while, Bella assumed, she led the way to the 200 hall lockers. Along the way, Jess pointed out different students to her and imparted little gems of knowledge about them.

"That's Tyler Crowley. The cute one with the black Polo. He's such a sweetheart; gets a little handsy after about the second date but for the most part he's harmless. At least that's what Lauren says. I've never been out with him so I wouldn't know. And there's Angela Weber. She's Preacher Weber's daughter. She's probably the nicest girl you'll ever meet. The cutie pie with the dark hair next to her is Ben Cheney. They've been a thing since forever . . ."

On and on she went. Bella nodded at the appropriate times and smiled appreciatively when they finally reached her locker.

"Well this is where I leave you. If you get lost goin' to class, don't be afraid to ask someone. Most of us would be happy to help. Maybe we'll have a class together!" With one last friendly smile, Jess tossed her straight blonde hair over her shoulder and bounced away, leaving Bella in blissful silence. She shook her head at the other girl's exuberance and began work on the combination for entrance to her locker.

"4 . . . 15 . . . 12 . . . 26 and open." To her dismay, the door wouldn't budge. "Ok let's try this again. 4 . . . 15 . . . 12 . . . 26 and open." As before, the locker refused to open. She growled and stomped her foot childishly. She resituated her book bag on her shoulder and reached up for the combination lock once again. Before her hand touched it for the third time, a large, tanned, fist hit the lower left corner of the locker twice then easily opened the door. Bella looked up into the green eyes of her savior.

"Thanks! How did you know to do that?"

The boy smiled handsomely and with perfect teeth. "I had this locker last year. Don't worry though; they switch locks up every summer so I don't know your combination or anything." His smile never faltered in his explanation. "You must be new."

Bella sighed. "Why does everyone keep saying that? Do I really look that lost?"

The boy chuckled and ducked his head down. His hand came to rest on the back of his neck in what was either a charmingly innocent, or nervous, gesture; she didn't know him well enough to confidently decide which.

"Nah, you don't look that lost, I reckon. This school ain't terribly small but we still tend to know most everyone in it."

Bella felt a grin itching its way to her delicate heart-shaped face. There was definitely something to be said for a gorgeous guy with a southern accent. And gorgeous he definitely was. Lean muscles, broad shoulders, strong jaw, and skin that looked as though the sun had given him a gently kiss. "Okay, okay. I accept your answer and thank you for your services. I'm Bella, by the way." She stuck her hand out.

The boy lifted it and, like a true southern gentleman, grazed his lips chastely across her knuckles. "A pleasure," he stated. "So what brings you to the fair Carolinas?"

She dropped her useless homeroom information, as well as most of her blank notebooks into the locker, keeping out only a binder and a pen. She shut the offending locker door and focused her attention on the boy beside her. "How do you know I haven't lived in North Carolina all my life?" she joked. He frowned, a mockingly serious tone to his next words.

"You talk funny."

The statement had the desired effect and Bella laughed aloud at the ridiculous notion that her classmate, who used "ain't" and "reckon" in everyday speech, would think _she_ was the one who talked funny.

"Fair point," she said still laughing. He grinned again and asked her about her next class.

"Advanced Placement Composition and Literature with Mrs. Mullinax." He nodded thoughtfully and began walking and talking.

"You'll want a seat somewhere in the middle. She picks on the back-row people and usually ends up hitting the ones in front." At Bella's horrified expression, he continued quickly in clarification. "She talks with her hands and sometimes gets a little, uhh, over-excited, I reckon you could say."

"Might this be personal experience talking?" she teased. A light pink adorned the tops of his cheeks at her picking. He ducked his head as he did before and, again, his hand went to scratch the back of his neck.

"Maybe."

He came to a stop and bowed before her with an outstretched arm. "Your class, ma'am." She looked at the name on the door and then again at the boy who'd escorted her.

"Thank you," she said, somewhat surprised that she hadn't even realized he was walking her to class. She stuck her hand out again for a handshake and commented, "I never got your name."

True to his original greeting, he kissed her knuckles and simply replied,

"Edward."

She felt her cheeks flush at the second kiss. "Well Edward, it was truly a pleasure to meet you. Think I'll happen to run into you again?"

Edward smiled sweetly. "I'll be around." And with that, he gave another light bow and walked away.

The class passed much slower that what Bella was used to. Back at her old school, she had been subjected to six periods a day that lasted 45 minutes for the entire year. Here in North Carolina, there were four periods a day, lasting 90 minutes each but only for a semester. Students were given four different classes for the next semester. She later learned that this allowed students to complete core classes and graduate a semester early if they so desired. Nevertheless, despite the class time being extended, she quickly discovered that her first period class would most likely be her favorite. Mrs. Mullinax already proved to be a wonderful teacher, if a little unorthodox. She was quite obviously very passionate, often raising her voice and waving her hands when she a point she was particularly opinionated about.

As per usual on the first day of a new semester, most of the period was spent reviewing the course syllabus. Mrs. Mullinax had no issue sharing her less than kind thoughts on Dimmsdale in _The Scarlet Letter _(". . . lying, no good coward!"), her love of Heathcliffe in _Wuthering Heights_ (". . . _he_ was truly a man's man! Males in my class should take close notes!"), and her previous classes' opinions of _Jane Eyre_ (a picture of a stick figure with the nametag "Jane" hanging from the gallows drawn crudely on the inside of an M & M's wrapper hung innocently on a corkboard). She felt pity for her next teacher, Mr. Banner, as she walked out of English that day. She doubted that any class subject would do anything but pale in comparison to her beloved English anyway, and biology had always been somewhat dull to her. To make it worse, Jessica had already given her the skinny on Mr. Banner that morning. According to Jess, he was a completely bland man whose tone was unable to pass the point of monotony. Bella merely sighed and walked into the class which, thankfully, resided only three doors down from her first period. She'd resigned herself to 90 minutes of boredom before she looked up and at once changed her mind. The green eyes and crookedly sweet smile of a certain classmate were definitely promising her different.

**AN: And here's chapter 2 =) Sorry it took so long to get it out, my schedule at work has been a little bit crazy lately. Questions? Comments? Derogatory remarks? Just hit that little button and let me know! =) And to those who have reviewed (I'm so sorry I didn't acknowledge yall sooner or better!) and have favorited my story or put it on alert, I appreciate it greatly! See yall next chapter 3**


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